


and we could try

by plinys



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/F, Femslash February
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 05:17:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17616239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: “It’s not even her real wedding,” Sara insists.[an "epilogue" to myavalance sm au]





	and we could try

**Author's Note:**

> SO IF YOURE NEW HERE STOP RIGHT NOW AND GO READ THE AU ON TWITTER [LINK IN THE SUMMARY] 
> 
> this won't make much sense without doing so....
> 
> BUT IF YOURE HERE FROM TWITTER, then please enjoy this. i wanted to write a little thing in prose style (and tbh i might turn the whole au into a prose style fic soon a people keep asking) and give you a little epilogue to this whole journey. its been a wild month writing this on twitter and interacting with all of you, and i hope you enjoy this one last bit of this universe that i have grown so very attached to over the last month!

Her phone buzzes on the counter top. Loud and echoing and she really needs to learn to turn that off because that’s the fifth time in the last ten minutes and - 

“Nora is going to kill me.”

“Nora can wait,” Sara insists. 

And it’s hard to argue with her, because Ava has been waiting for  _ this  _ for the last two weeks. Biding her time, doing her job, pretending that she wasn’t counting down the days until she had to fly to the Midwest for what was apparently supposed to be the  _ wedding of the century _ . Though everyone that mattered knew better.

Knew that the  _ real  _ ceremony, the only one that had ever mattered, had taken place weeks before. Nora wrapped in a borrowed sweater to hide her dress, rumbled from a night spent passed out on a cell floor. Ray dressed in a black crew neck, and wearing a crown that Gary had produced from only god knows where. In a  _ Taco Bell  _ of all places. 

It had been beautiful and perfect and a little messy and Ava had spent the whole time cringing with second hand embarrassment while Sara’s hands made patterns against her thigh in a way that had really been far too sexual for the place and occasion.

(Nate had even gotten to have his  _ best man  _ moment, since as soon as the ceremony was over Sara was rather well occupied.)

They had promised to be good at this one.

To play the part properly.

And she had.

Technically.

For the most part.

Ava had spent the morning with Nora, helping her get dressed, dealing with her one (9) breakdowns before the ceremony started, and reassuring her again and again that really this didn’t matter since  _ technically  _ they were already married.

Then she had stood up there, took her place as Maid of Honor, and tried not to spend the entire ceremony staring beyond the world’s most sickeningly adorable couple and at Sara instead.

Tried being the keyword.

And now well… If they were going to be a little late to the reception. 

“It’s not even her  _ real  _ wedding,” Sara says, speaking what Ava is thinking.

Though her words come out as more of a whisper, just barely there, felt where her lips are pressed against Ava’s neck. She’s not biting down enough to leave a mark, not yet, not like  _ last time.  _ It’s somehow both enough and not even close to enough, and it’s getting harder and harder to think. 

They used to joke about this.

Back before when Ava still wasn’t sure if Sara felt the same, still wasn’t sure if all of  _ this  _ really could be hers, hooking up at the wedding reception had been nothing more than a joke. And maybe a late night fantasy of hers if Ava was being honest with herself.

But now…

Now it could almost be a reality except…

“I have to give a speech,” Ava insists, stubbornly.

She does.

It’s a good speech.

She’s practiced it.

And she didn’t get to say it at the first wedding. 

And - “Ava, baby girl, my hand is literally up your dress right now, you  _ really  _ want to go back in there and give a  _ speech _ .”

“Yes?”

“No you don’t.”

As if to prove her point, Sara’s pressed down with her fingers just so. Previously her hand had been nothing more than a ghost of a touch. A temptation, a hand that slid up Ava’s thigh, and had come to rest right there where she wanted it most, but refusing to be more than that. But now Sara presses two fingers against Ava’s panties, and there’s no way she can’t feel how much Ava wants to give in to her.

To give into all of this. 

To say fuck speeches, and weddings, and well - Sara too, but a whole different sort of  _ fuck.  _

“We wouldn’t have met if it wasn’t for this wedding,” Ava points out. 

Sara leans back at that, a frown on her lips. She’s so adorable when she does that, and Ava wants to lean down just enough to kiss her, but she forces herself to resist the urge. Because that’s what Sara wants, to be kissed, and for Ava to forget all about what she’s supposed to be doing. 

“Don’t give them all the credit,” Sara reminds her, “I slid into your DMs at least a week before.” 

“To tell me that you wanted me to finger you,” Ava reminds her, a small hint of judgement in her voice.

Really, the fact that she hadn’t blocked Sara to begin with was probably a sign of bad judgement on Ava’s part.

And also, coincidentally, the best decision she had ever made.

“Yes,” Sara says, voice nearly a while, “And I still really want that, so if we could-”

Ava kisses her.

Mostly to shut her up.

And also because she really likes kissing Sara. 

Like she could spend the rest of her life kissing Sara. 

Like she might be intending to ask Sara if she’s interested in that  _ very soon _ .

Her phone buzzes against the bathroom counter top again, reminding Ava that she can’t just kiss Sara for all of time. At least not just yet.

So Ava pulls back sooner than she would like, savers that brief moment of peace, where Sara lingers there, eyes closed, and lips slightly parted, fresh from being kissed. Before the pout returns to her lips, pointed now, emphasized with her fingers pressing up against Ava again.

Still when Ava pushes lightly against Sara she moves, pulling her hand back to herself, and doing her best to fix her own dress while Ava does the same, knowing a losing battle when she sees one, still she wouldn’t be Sara if she didn’t try one last time - “Aves, baby, come on, don’t tease me, that’s not fair.” 

“Later,” Ava says, “I promise. And next week when you come to visit me.”

“That is literally so far away I’m going to die of anticipation.” 

Ava rolls her eyes at that. Sara, dramatic as always, and checks her appearance in the mirror. Doing her best to look presentable. Not the easiest task given the fact there’s no way that anybody won’t know exactly what they’ve been up to.

Still, Ava grabs her phone shooting off a quick  _ on my way  _ to Nora, before turning back to Sara, “We’ve waited this long, what’s a little bit more?” 

  
  



End file.
